The Act of Falling

by Tayla Alexandra

  “God will provide.” For the first time, in all the years his father had been shoving that message down his throat, Ezekiel finally believed it. “Good, Lord.” He looked out at the sky. “I’m becoming my father.”

  Chapter 17 — Bekah

  Bekah stood before the entire assembly of kindergarten through eighth-graders. Seeing them all together in one place, the school was much bigger than she realized. After a weekend of working out the details with Ezekiel and his family, they had decided that to fit the class in, they’d have to cut each subject lesson by five minutes and gym class by ten. They would split them up into three groups in the same arrangement as lunch.

  Although she had tried to persuade them to wait until the new school year to effect the changes, Mrs. Gaines had been insistent that they get started right away in hopes of putting together something for the fall festival. Bekah had her doubts, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to start scouting out talent now. They could at least do something small. The parents would be proud, and word would get around that the school was opening the program. Then again, maybe they’d find the school had no talent at all, and they’d end up squashing the entire idea. Bekah didn't consider that option. Kids were born with the innate ability to make-believe. Not all were gifted with the ability of acting, but she would find whatever it was they were interested in and help to hone their skills. After all, a play was more than just acting on a stage. There were the stagehands, costume preps, sound, lighting, and many other ways the children could sign up to help.

  “Good morning, Sunshine Elementary!” she called out to the school of students. “My name is Miss Bekah.”

  The kids clapped heartily, boosting her courage. She'd always enjoyed an audience, but usually, it was the adult kind.

  “You might be worried about why you have been pulled out of your classes, making you miss out on some outstanding classwork assignments, so I will make this brief.” Bekah’s gaze went to Ezekiel, who sat in the front row.

  Cupping his hands together, he called, “We love classwork!”

  “Boo!” A couple of the older kids heckled Ezekiel.

  Bekah rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it has come to my attention that there is not a school in the entire town that has a drama program. I’ve also been told that there are some really bright and talented kids here that might want to participate in such a class. Maybe you can sing or dance. Maybe you are good at acting, or maybe you can help the program in another way. Say, you might like to learn how to build stage props or sew outfits. Some of you might be interested in learning how to work the lights or sound. Others of you might be interested in baking treats for sales. We'll also need those who can draw signs and sell tickets. There are so many ways to contribute that the possibilities are endless.”

  “Where do we sign up?” Garrett, who was sitting on the other side, called out, making the entire student body laugh.

  “I’m glad you asked,” Bekah answered, not skipping a beat. “For now, classes will be held at three separate times. The Kindergarteners through second grade will meet first thing in the morning. Third through fifth will be after lunch, and the older students will show up after your last class. Once we get a cast picked out for the first play, it will be up to each of those students picked to show up for after-school rehearsals.”

  The students began talking among themselves excitedly.

  Bekah cleared her throat and spoke again. “Notes will go home tonight with each of you, and the rest of the week we will be accepting enrollment into the classes.”

  Pastor Gaines stood and came up next to her. She handed him the microphone. “This is very important. Being that this class is new to our curriculum, you have each been provided with a permission slip to attend the class just to keep your parents apprised of the course change. If you are interested in taking the class, you will need your permission slip signed by your parents and brought back to your teachers by the end of the week. The classes are free to all who are enrolled in the school, so you are the lucky ones. Teachers make sure to send out the forms with your students. Students, if you are interested in the class, please get your signed form back to your teacher immediately. Classes start next week.”

  “What if we don’t want to take the class?” Ezekiel asked, prompting his father.

  “Thank you, Mr. Gaines. I almost forgot. If you are not interested in taking a drama class, you will be able to use this time to catch up on homework and studying for tests. But as Miss Bekah already said, I am hoping you will find some interest. Whether it be honing your abilities or learning something new, and we will have plenty of behind-the-scenes work as well.”

  The kids were dismissed, with contagious whispers and excitement. Even the other teachers seemed excited about it. Of course, if the school closed, each of them would lose their jobs. They all had a great deal to lose if the program was not successful. The fate of the school seemed to be on Bekah’s shoulders. It was what she thrived on, though. In the last couple of years, Bekah had given up, but it was not in her nature to do so. Usually, she flourished on adrenaline. There were two kinds of people in life. Those who gave up and those who pressed on. She was determined to be the latter.

  “What do you think?” Ezekiel asked. “Will there be a good turn-out?”

  “It’s possible. But I’m wondering if it’s a good idea to offer the class free to attending students? It takes a lot to put on any kind of performance, let alone a play. There are costumes, props, sound―”

  “Hey.” Ezekiel touched her shoulder, comforting her instantly. “Don’t worry―”

  “Please don’t tell me that God is going to deliver costumes, props, lighting, and speaker systems to the church, Ezekiel.”

  Ezekiel chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

  “Take this seriously, Zeke.”

  “I am. Hey, it’s okay. I have a plan.”

  “What plan?”

  “Come with me.”

  Bekah followed Ezekiel. Unless he had an entire storage room full of stage equipment, she didn’t see how anything he could show her would be of much help.

  Ezekiel walked to the back of the building and outside. Behind it was another large building.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “When we bought the property years ago, it was an entire K-12 school. When property values took a nose-dive, my father sunk every penny he had into this piece of land. He had no idea why God had pressed him to purchase it, but he was adamant that it was his calling.”

  “I still don’t understand. How can this help us? We don’t need more space. We need ―”

  Ezekiel touched her lips to quiet her, and she wished he would stop doing that. With each touch, she was growing closer to him. She wasn’t sure she liked that feeling.

  “Don’t you get it? We have the resources to open up an entire center for the arts. If we could get the entire school staffed, and get the community interested, we could open up the school next year. Do you realize how much our tuition would go up if we could offer classes to every grade?”

  “That’s wonderful, Ezekiel. But if we can’t get the funds to pull off a single fall play, how will we fill the school?” She wasn’t doubting. She was being realistic.

  “The stage in the sanctuary is already equipped with lighting and sound. The sound booth is loaded with capabilities that my father never even uses. What else will you need?”

  “Costumes, make-up, props, a curtain! We don’t even have a curtain!”

  “Make me a list of what we’ll need, and I’ll see what we can do. For now, focus on what you do best.”

  “And what would that be?” Bekah put her hands on her hips.

  “Drama.” Giving her a wink, Ezekiel leaned in and kissed her cheek. “We got this.”

  Bekah’s face heated. She’d never had a man kiss her so gently on the cheek. She was used to men who had an agenda. Ezekiel was so different. There was no pressure in his eyes, no wanting look. No expectations ...

 
; Chapter 18 — Ezekiel

  Ezekiel sat in the living room that evening with Bekah. Each of them had decided on a play that would be fitting for the kids, but neither of them could agree.

  “Annie is a classic, though!” Bekah said.

  “Yeah. I get that. But Annie is like ninety percent girl roles. We need to get the boys involved too. I still say Joseph, King of Dreams. It would be entertaining as well as inspiring.”

  “I don’t know. You don’t think that one would need an older cast?”

  “Maybe.” Ezekiel scanned the list he’d brought up on the internet. “We’re going to have to choose one soon. The natives are getting restless.”

  “What about Peter Pan?” His mother looked up from her sewing. “That has a good mix of cast for both girls and boys.”

  Bekah looked at Ezekiel. “It’s perfect! I love it!”

  “Peter Pan it is then. I’ll order the script.”

  “The kids are going to love it!” Bekah rubbed her hands together. “And I think we can get away with minimal cost in costumes.”

  “Err hem.” Ezekiel’s father stood in the doorway. “I think I might have found something that will help.”

  “Yeah, Dad?” Ezekiel stood. “A million dollars hiding under the porch?”

  His father laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, boy. Get your shoes on, and I’ll show you. You too, Bekah.”

  Bekah stood and looked at Ezekiel.

  Ezekiel shrugged. He had no idea what his father was talking about.

  The two of them put on their shoes and followed his father out of the house. As he made his way to the church, he spoke. “So, when I bought this place, as you know, we never got much use out of those two back buildings.”

  “Right,” Ezekiel agreed. “We agreed we didn’t really need the extra space, so we ended up only using the one building for the school.” He was speaking more to Bekah than his father. “We’d always hoped the school would expand one day.”

  “The thing is.” His father stopped. “This school was originally closed down in the nineties. Each of these buildings were separated by only a gate and served as the school system for the entire town. Once Sunshine outgrew it, they got the funding and built three separate schools. When we did the walk-thru before purchasing it, I didn’t think much about these buildings because we just couldn’t afford to staff them all.” He continued to walk.

  Ezekiel had no idea where his father was going with the conversation, so he followed.

  His father stopped at the entrance to one of the two unused buildings behind the current school. “They are still in pretty good repair, but they will need a bit of work to get them fully restored.”

  “What are you saying, Dad?”

  “Let me show you. I don’t think you will quite understand unless I do.” His father dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

  Once inside, Ezekiel looked around. The flooring was yellowed but otherwise didn’t look too bad. The walls easily needed a good coat of paint.

  “Back here.” His father continued until they were almost to the end of the building. He opened a door and waved Ezekiel and Bekah inside.

  Ezekiel stared blankly. Had his father finally lost his marbles?

  “What is this?” Bekah spoke before he could get the words out.

  “Home Economics,” his father said proudly.

  “I don’t get it, Dad. What good will a bunch of kitchens do us?”

  “You really have no clue, do you?” His father sighed.

  “Uh, no.” Ezekiel looked at Bekah.

  Her eyes brightened at the sight, and still, Ezekiel was dumbfounded.

  “What?”

  “Ezekiel," Bekah stared at him in awe. "This means if there are kitchens, there’s got to be a shop class. Mr. Gaines, is there a sewing room?” Her face glowed with excitement.

  “There sure is.”

  Ezekiel was still confused. “Okay, you two. Start talking.”

  “Back in my day, home economics, shop, sewing, mechanics, woodworking, all of that was taught in schools to prepare teenagers for life in the real world. Now, I don’t know if any of it works, but there’s everything we could possibly need to get the kids involved in building the props, sewing costumes, whatever we might need. I’m sure we could even use the kitchens for cooking some intermission goodies.”

  “Ohhhh ...” A very bright lightbulb went off in his brain. “You think we could get any of it up and running?”

  “Well, that’s the vision, but this stuff has been sitting around for almost thirty years.”

  “How would we find the money to make these old buildings usable again?” Ezekiel asked. “I mean, it seems next to impossible.”

  “Not if I cash in my 401k.”

  His father had worked twenty-five years as an engineer before he'd received the calling to preach.

  Ezekiel flipped around, his eyes narrowing. “Dad! No! That’s your retirement!”

  “Son, do you think Moses told God no when He told him to lead His people to the Promised Land? And Joseph, when he was sitting in the middle of a foreign jail for crimes he didn’t commit. Do you think he threw in the towel and said I give up? What about ―”

  “Dad, I don’t know. What if it fails? Then what? Besides, it would take the entire school year to get these buildings into shape. That still wouldn’t help us with the upcoming play.”

  “If any of this old stuff works, it will save us a pretty penny, and I bet the kids would love to get involved. Not so much the elementary side, but the older kids, I bet they’d love it.”

  “I wish I had something like this when I was in school.” Bekah gave another glance around. “Once the community hears you are bringing all of this back, I bet parents will be knocking down the door to enroll their kids.”

  “You think so?” Ezekiel asked.

  “Yeah, sure!” she answered. “What do you think, Pastor?”

  “I sure wish you’d have taken some of these courses.” He directed his comment to Ezekiel. “Kids these days have no idea how to even turn on a stove, let alone use it.”

  Bekah giggled. “Ain’t that the truth.”

  Ezekiel poked her in the side. “Like you know how to cook and sew.”

  “Maybe I do, Zeke.” He enjoyed the way she teased him. And he was reminded that he really shouldn’t. Just because she had changed her attire... she still had baggage he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with.

  “Alright, you two. Let’s take a look at what else we got here.”

  His father escorted them to the other rooms. One of which held dozens of sewing machines, another, saws and tables, and yet another, one that fascinated him the most, held an old car in the middle of the room with lifts and pulleys. Auto mechanics.

  Ezekiel walked toward the car and touched the hood. “This is really cool, Dad. I’d have loved to learn to work on cars.”

  “Back in my day, the girls took sewing and cooking, and the boys took woodshop and auto mechanics. It was a requirement, and even if a girl was interested in woodworking, she was not allowed to take the class. I’m sure as the times changed, that rule changed as well, and of course, we’d want to make all of the courses available to everyone.”

  “So, what’s the first step?” Bekah asked.

  “Well, first-” His father ran a hand through his graying hair. “We’d need to find out how much if any of it is usable.” He turned to Ezekiel. “Your mother will be delighted to test out those old sewing machines. Bekah, if you could check out the kitchens, between Zeke and I, we can test the rest. Once we assess the situation, we can go from there.”

  “Did he just call me Zeke?” Ezekiel turned to a smug looking Bekah.

  Bekah placed her hands on her hips, pursed her lips, and gave him a once over. “If the shoe fits.” She cocked her head.

  Ezekiel gave a breathy, I can’t believe you said that, laugh and fell into step with her as they headed back to the house.

  “This is mind-blowing. I mean,
all I had pictured was a small, insignificant drama program. And now we have all of this.” He pointed back to the building they had left behind. “I don’t even know if we can pull of such an extensive plan. I mean, it’s going to cost a lot of money and man-hours. We need this to work.”

  He fell silent.

  The school and the church depended on this to be successful because people depended on them for their jobs - him included. The only other option would be to turn it into a charter school and receive state funding, but his father was opposed to that idea. He didn't want the state regulating what they could and could not teach.

  “I’ll take a look at the shop on Saturday,” Ezekiel said. “If we can salvage at least some of it, we might be able to get it up and running.”

  As his father went inside the house, Ezekiel turned to Bekah. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s great. I’d have loved to have taken some of these courses as a kid.”

  “Yeah, me too. But I’m worried that my father is biting off more than he can chew.”

  “I don’t know, Zeke. I mean, the buildings are already here, and the kids would love it. Once the rest of the town hears about the new program, they might just want to transfer their children here. Who knows, maybe even some from the surrounding towns as well. It could happen.”

  But would it? No matter how good the idea sounded, Ezekiel couldn’t wrap his mind around it. “So, let me get this straight. I mean, just for my own understanding. Are you suggesting we open up these classes to our junior-highers? So instead of just offering a drama class, we should offer them all up as electives?”

  “Sure, why not?" Bekah grinned. "The school is small enough that those kids who aren’t interested in the arts can sign up for the other classes. In a way, they’d be helping us out too. We could get ― wait, I have the perfect idea!”

  “If this involves stealing, I don’t want to know.” Ezekiel held up his hand, a roguish smile beginning to stretch his lips.

  “Stop that!” Bekah turned away and lowered her head, her hair covering her face so he couldn’t see her expression. “I said I was sorry.”